Random Crack Ships
by antinomian
Summary: This story is for random crack ships that make absolutely no sense. The challenge is for me to try to make them work some way, somehow, while deviating from canon as little as possible. Requests accepted, but I prefer lesbian ships. First up: Lola and Zoë. Rated M for sexual content.
1. Experimental: Lola x Zoe

A/N: I know this would never happen in canon and is kind of pervy. It's the only way I can imagine shipping these two, though, and this story is all about random ships.

It took some sneaking around, but Lola finally had a vibrator that was a little bigger and stronger than the one she carried around on her keychain. She was determined to have an orgasm, to feel what pleasure felt like. She initially planned on buying a jelly vibe, but then the feminist club ran this thing about how the jelly was just a bunch of toxic gunk that melted all over the place, and Lola wanted to throw up. After that, she decided she simply _had_ to have silicone and she didn't care if it cost her $60 of hard-earned tips.

She pressed the Fun Factory toy to her clitoris and let out a light moan. This felt good, but it wasn't working. She didn't feel the surge of pleasure Frankie talked about or that "warm feeling" that another girl on the volleyball team mentioned. Maybe she needed to fantasize about someone.

Rubbing some lube onto the toy, Lola started to push it into her entrance. She imaged Tiny doing the same and shuddered with initial pleasure that waned into nothing. Her mind replaced Tiny with Zig, then with pizza guy after pizza guy until eventually she grew frustrated. The toy was inside her, and all she wanted to do was throw it across the room.

She clearly wasn't relaxed, and her doctor said she had to relax to make this work. Taking a few deep breaths, Lola tried to clear her mind and let it wander to where it wanted to. Suddenly, there was Zoë Rivas, in a short cheerleader skirt, sliding it off and…Lola pulled out the toy and began rubbing it against her clitoris. Did girls rub their clitorises together? In Lola's imagination, they did, and she started to feel what could only be described as red. It was intense like pain but comfortable, warm, and safe like pleasure. She tilted her head back and involuntarily choked out Zoë's name as her first orgasm waved through her.

Weird. Well, her doctor did say that different things worked for different girls. She told herself it didn't have to mean anything, cleaned up, and texted Tiny about where they'd be meeting up for non-cheating pizza.


	2. Just a Crush: Jenna x Grace

A/N: I am literally doing random pairings with a random pairing generator, so for this fic I'm not really taking requests, but thank you for making them! This fic is a challenge; the point is to try to use my knowledge of canon to make extreme crack ships seem logical basically. This chapter is Jenna/Grace, for instance. I doubt you will ever see another fanfiction about these two.

There was once a time when I would have said that bad boy types were totally my thing. Bad _girl_ types were supposed to be off-limits.

It was two years past my graduation date, and college was going nowhere. I was stuck back in Toronto, waiting tables at The Dot while Alli and Clare lived it up at their first-choice schools. To put the icing on the miserable cake, Connor and I were long over and my brother had long deserted me. These days, I literally had no one.

Maybe it was my loneliness that made me reach out to the black-haired, pierced University of Toronto student who always came in for muffins. She smiled at me often, and she was a great conversationalist.

"What's U of T like?" I asked her as I poured someone else's coffee.

"Not bad," she said. "I wanted to go to Banting, but my mom insisted I stay close to home. I _was_ really bummed about it, but I'm actually liking where I ended up okay. Are you in school?"

I shook my head. "Taking a couple semesters off while I figure out where I want to go and what I want to do with my life."

"You should consider U of T," she said. "Come take the tour sometime."

After giving me that friendly advice, she left to get to class. I wished that I had at least asked for her name or something. It was crazy. Was I turning gay? I had nothing against gay people or bi people or transgender people; I had even been the one to tell Becky to go for Adam when she was flip-flopping on whether or not to think of him as a boy. Given that, I knew I shouldn't be too hard on myself. Besides, it wasn't as if I had parents I could disappoint or a minister I could piss off. Since his daughter stood up to him about her relationship with a transgender guy and her later friendship with a bisexual girl, Becky's dad had become much more accepting of LGBT people. I had nothing to lose now except for my job, but I figured there were ways to get more information about my new crush without jeopardizing it.

The next time she came in, I took the plunge and asked for her name. "It's Grace," she said. "You're Jenna."

I nodded. "Do you know when U of T's giving tours again?"

"Probably soon," Grace said. "You want me to check for you?"

"That'd be great."

She pulled out her smart phone and began looking. Before she could type any words, she started to cough. I jumped with alarm when I saw blood on her hands.

"Oh my God!" I rarely said the Lord's name in vain, but this was a scary and intense situation. "Grace!"

"It's okay," she said, letting out another cough as she got up from her chair and rushed toward the bathroom.

Knowing she could be in danger, I followed her. "What's going on? Do you need me to call 911? Your doctor?"

"No, it's okay," she said. "I just need to go home is all."

I suddenly understood why the girl had to stay so close to home and why things were hard for her. She was sick, maybe even terminally sick. I wondered if all her friends had left her too, if one fact about her had cost her everything the way my pregnancy in high school had started a long series of un-pleasantries that followed me into my young adult years.

Whether it was as friends or as something more, I knew that I wasn't going to stop wanting her over this. Maybe if I was lucky, the two of us could be rejects together and compare battle scars over our shared alienation. Or, maybe she had a perfect support team. Either way, I was probably crazy for thinking she could be interested in me.

A/N: So nothing raunchy happens here, but it didn't make a lot of sense to me for them to make out at the end of this chapter. I mostly made it a crush fic rather than a full-blown relationship. Hope it works anyway.


	3. Unpredictable: Goldi x Lola

There were some things in life that you couldn't predict, no matter how hard you tried. From the time I was little, I had had my entire future mapped out. In elementary school, I decided I would excel academically. I would try out for the gifted program and set a massive documentary project on sexism in the fashion industry as my IEP goal. Technically I succeeded at making the documentary, but I didn't succeed at getting it into every major film festival across Canada and really changing people's minds.

Once I got to high school, I decided I would someday become the leader of a feminist organization that would revolutionize the secondary educational experience for every female in existence. So far, I had fallen slightly short of that goal, but I was still doing good work. It was the next part of my plan that seemed like it would never come to fruition. I hoped to eventually use all that charisma and power to become class president (which I failed to do), make it into Yale University, and then my intellectual match in a progressive, forward-thinking guy.

 _No_ , reader. For the millionth time, I will not be forced into an arranged marriage. Both my parents are progressive, awesome people who believe in my freedom to love whomever I like.

I just never expected the person I liked to be Lola. When I first met her, my own internalized misogyny made me totally misread her as just some ditz who only cared about boys. When I found out that there was more to her, that she cared about protests and changing unfair policies I realized that even I did not live outside the reaches of patriarchal oppression. Although she didn't get much credit for it, she had more spunk than Maya did when she wrote "No Way." She had more originality and more passion in her than I could hope to have.

It was when Tiny broke up with her that I tried my best to step in and offer her my condolences. "He's in love with someone else," she explained to a busload of girls on our volleyball trip. She didn't mention who it was, but Shay's downcast expression told me she knew.

"That's terrible," Andrea said. "What did you say to him?"

"It doesn't matter now," Lola said brightly. "I want to have a fun trip with no more mention of that jerk."

Smiling warmly at her, I nodded in agreement. "Then let's have that."

In that moment, I didn't care if Lola ever returned my feelings. I wasn't even sure if the way I felt could be classified as feelings since I had never had anything classifiable as feelings for anyone before. All I knew was that I loved her company and loved her in general. I hoped that with or without me, Lola never changed.


End file.
